Confessions of a Confederate Soldier
by Jaspersgurl1843
Summary: Jasper Whitlock left home at 17 to join in on the Civil War, leaving behind his parents and his sister, but taking his brother. He keeps a journal of his time. But when the dreams start, he's not sure if he is living in a reality or fantasy, all because of a mysterious new girl. Set in 1861, during the Civil War. Jasper's POV noncanon AU AH R
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, so this is another new story from yours truly. I honestly hope you enjoy it:) It is entirely from Jasper's point of view. I don't own the series or any of the fabulous characters. They are all property of the wonderful Stephanie Meyer. I may forget to write that on every chapter, so this applies to the entire story. Kay? Kay. Onward, unicorn army!**

**Taming of the Shrew is property of William Shakespear(and is a fabulous play to read:D so do it!)**

I sat in my bunker with some privates I had recruited and sighed. I reached under my bunk and pulled out a stack of paper with a leather sheet on the front and back that served as a journal and a steel tipped pen. I opened up to the first available page and began to write.

_October 1, 1861- 8:43 p.m._

_The war is taking its toll on all of us here. The recruits cannot seem to make it through a night without jumping at every shot fired. I guess I could be a little easier on them. I know they were drifted in, maybe even volunteered by friends. It must be hard. I am their Major,so I demand that respect, but still, it'd be pleasant to have a real friend here. I know I chose this myself, but what was I thinking, working so hard, becoming a Major at only seventeen. And now, to think that I very well may die before I should ever set my eyes upon her, the girl who would make my heart sing and erupt from joy. I may never meet the woman I would call my wife. Even at seventeen, I know that I want a family. I often find myself still thinking of the wavy blonde hair of my young sister at home. At age fourteen, Rosalie is still the most beautiful woman I have ever met and I know that, like many other men from our town, I would have come to her father and asked to court her, were she__ not my dear sister. I hope she is well and love finds her soon. I know my brother, Peter, is safe and well, as he is a soldier in my platoon. I refused when they offered him a different officer. I need my piece of home. The war frightens him. He fears he may never return to his darling Charlotte. I envy him the love they share. At least he'd had a taste of it if he were to fall. I never would._

I was disturbed by Alexander, my aide-de-camp, and his loud, trampling feet. He was running. This I knew without looking up. He paused in front of me and gasped for breathe. "Speak, Alec," I said, voice firm, but yet, I still sat, rereading the words I had wrote. "Sir, it is Private Harris. He has passed. Dysentery claimed another strong fighter from us," he explained. I growled. "Damn disease. I would rather the damned Yankees take us out than this. At least then, we'd have a fighting chance," I yelled, grabbing a random object off of a makeshift table and chuckedd it at a nearby tree. I sighed. I wasn't upset that he died of the disease. That's understandable. I was just so angry that another human, a son to a strong Confederate family, had fallen. I sat back down on my bunk, my head falling into my hands. "Damn it all," I whispered. I couldn't handle this. I was only seventeen. Not that they knew that when I was drafted. I was eager to fight, to protect my father and mother, my dear sweet sister. I lied to fight for the lifestyle that I knew, that I loved. To every other soul here, I was twenty years old. I sighed and lifted my head to Alec. He waited for orders patiently, his blue eyes a tad upset over the loss and his blonde hair a mess. I knew Alec had come from a wealthy family and he had been able to bathe everyday. The war must be torturing him. The dirt, filt, and taking orders. The hardest part must be being separated for the first time from his identical twin. he spoke fondly and often of Jane, her warm smile, her caring tendicities at times. During his stories, I was often reminded of Kate from Shakespear's _Taming of the Shrew._ There was times where I wondered if I'd ever meet my sweet Bianca.

"Prepare the usual send off. If you are questioned, you tell them Major Whitlock approved it. Do you understand?" I asked, voice getting firmer. He nodded. "sir, yes, sir," he confirmed. I smiled, something I rarely did anymore. "Dismissed," I answered. He smiled and ran off to find the body. I sighed when the teen was out of sight. The sun had been long set, so I had decided to turn in.

By the light of the Texas moon, I saw a shimmer of long chestnut hair and a blue dance past my bunk and into the forest. I knew those trees were lined with Union soldiers just on the other side. I rose from my bed when she crossed my path again. Chocolate eyes bore into my blue ones and she smiled, teeth perfectly white and straight. I felt my cheeks flush red as a pale, warm hand grazed my cheek. I smiled shyly. "Hello, soldier," she whispered. I tipped my head to her. "Evenin' ma'am. You do realize it's late and Northern troops lay just on the other side of these here trees," I pointed out stupidly. She giggled and I felt my cheeks burn more. She nodded. "Who are you, soldier?" she asked, moving her hand from my cheek to play with the skirt of her dress. I wanted to tell that the shade of blue she was wearing was doing amazing, tantalizing to her skin, but I kept my mouth shut. ""Major Jasper Whitlock at your service," I drawled. She smiled and my heart skipped a beat. "Major? Well, that makes this evening so much more entertaining. Escort me to my home in the city?" she asked. I smiled. "Ma'am, I would be honored to, but I'm afraid that we may not be able to leave this here clearing till morning at the earliest," I explained. She giggled again and the sound warmed my heart. "Well, you are unable, mister rebel, but I surely can. The union may be a pack of pretentious old fools, but they are wise enough not to shoot at a lady," she pointed. I smiled. Beautiful and fearless. She's much more like a Katherine than Bianca, but I felt as if she were hiding something, much as her similar character. I smiled at the comparison. I found myself feeling more as Petruchio rather than Lucentio. I should reread the play. "Ma'am, if you wouldn't mind, could you give me your name?" I asked, dazed. I knew my attempts were frivious. With her beauty and grace, she was most likely being courted by a wealthy gentleman from the city. The woman flipped her chestnut hair over her shoulder, shot me a sly smile, and wandered off into the trees. I moved to case her, but her laugh seemed to move faster than I could contemplate. She always seemed just out of reach.

I lurched from my bunk in a cold sweat. The sun had yet to rise, so I reached for the small gold pocket watch my father had given me before I left. Four twenty six. I thought back to the beautiful woman. Was it all a dream? The long, beautiful chestnut hair that fell in soft waves? The chocolate eyes that seemed to melt me to a puddle when they catch my gaze? Her sweet yet tantalizing laugh that screamed trouble? Had I imagined this perfect, amazing creature? I wasn't sure. I did know one thing, though. I had to make it through this war, simply to find that divine creature.

I grabbed my journal, knowing that this sweet woman was worthy of every page I had left to fill, and even pages that were filled to the edge. With my pen in hand, I remembered every detail about her.

_October 2, 1861- 4:26_

_The dream, it felt so real. The way her chocolate eyes gleamed with mischief and excitement made my heart beat faster. This woman, whether she is real or not, was amazing, and prefect in every way. I wish I could see her tempting smile one last time. I longed for her sweet laughter in my ear. I beg for her soft caress. I have fallen for a dream. I am falling in love with a figment of my imagination. I ust wish I had gotten a name from her. Even if I had envisioned her, no name ever thought of could compare to her immeasurable beauty. She put even Rosalie to shame with her simple smile and a bat of her long eyelashes. Her skin seemed to glow from the delicate blue gown she had worn. It was pale, but not in the sickly, ghastly way I've become accustomed to these past few months. I am beginning to question whether it is Bianca I need, or if it just may be a sharp tongued, shrewy Katherine. Who was that woman in my dream and will I ever see her again?_

**So? What do you think? Just FYI, some characters may come off more of Vampire Diaries characters just because that's my current obsession. Paul Wesley is just so... UNF! If only he wasn't 30 :( that just breaks my heart. Anywhoo! Review for a preview!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay, this may be premature, but I believe this story is quickly on its way to being my favorite one that I write. It's difficult to write in the frame of time, but to write jasper in his natural element is freeing. and to write his mate is so fun because with her personality being a cross of Katerine from ToTS and Katherine from Vampire Diaries, she could be anyone. Someone PMed me and asked for me to reveal to them who my lovely woman is, but that's no fun! We'll meet her soon enough. It's okay, I'm friend with her, so it won't awkward for any of you!**

**Stephanie Meyer owns Twilight and William Shakespear owns Taming of the Shrew.**

I knew I wouldn't able to return to sleep, so I ran the perimeter of the clearing a few times before sitting beside a fire pit. This was where I had first seen her last night. I could remember her chestnut hair as she passed this very spot. I reached forward, forgetting that she wasn't really here. Women weren't allowed to join the war unless we desperately needed them. I sighed and looked up from the vacant pit. It wasn't cold enough to need a fire and it wasn't nearly time for breakfast. I rose to my feet.

"Major Whitlock? What are you doing up this early? You're not an early riser like I am," a deep voice asked behind me. I turned and saw the tousled blonde hair of Lieutenant Riley Biers. I smiled. He was a strong leader. "Lieutenant. Good morning. No, I am not an early riser. A dream bothered me and I have not been able to fall back asleep. I saw someone," I explained. He nodded. "Yankee?" he asked. I shook my head. "No, a woman. She had long chestnut colored hair. She had on a dark blue evening gown. She had beautiful chocolate eyes," I recalled. He snickered. "A girl you knew from home?" he asked. "No. I've never seen her before. She appeared to me in a dream. I wondered if she exists, but I found it frustrating when I can't find a name for her," I admitted. He grinned softly at me. "I'm sorry. It must be difficult to see her. Do you think that you may find her if you get home?" he asked. I shrugged. "Que sera sera," I answered simply before getting up and walking away.

I returned to my bunk, more confused than before. Could it true that she was from Houston? I understand how big the area is, but surely I would have seen her around. I shook my head. No, she would have looked familiar to me, but she had not, although my heart had reached out to her. I could not deny the urge I felt to hold her, to keep her in my arms and never let go. I sighed. All of these overwhelming feelings for a woman I did not know, someone I did not have a name for. I was almost certain that I would never see her again, but I decided that Riley was essentially correct: if I made it home, I would try to find her.

The recruits woke about a half an hour later. Riley took them out and ran through drills with them. Despite the fact that most of them have been with us for a little over a week, not even half could load their weapon. I shook my head. They were pathetic. The only recruit that showed any promise was a young boy with dark curly hair and excited green eyes. Every time he smiled at his musket when he did something right, dimples appeared. For some reason, he made me remember Rose. She seemed to radiate happiness, but she didn't seem like herself the day I left.

_"Jasper!" she called the hall to my room. I looked up from my bed where I was packing to my doorway which featured a skinny girl with her long blonde hair tied back in a scarlett Robin that matched her knee length dress. I smiled and she flashed me one before pushing off of the balls of her feet and threw herself into my arms and sobbing violently into my shirt. "Jazz, I do not want you to go! Go in a year. I can handle a year. I can prepare. You just spring this on me and I have to just go along with this because your my older brother, but I need you to come home. I need someone to protect me! I'm only fourteen. I cannot take care of myself. Please come home," she begged. Her pleads had tears running down my face as well. I placed my hands on her delicate shoulders and she's looked up at me. I kneeled down and smiled, looking into her shappire eyes. "Rosalie Lillian, I will return to you if it is the last thing I do. I will never leave you here to defend yourself. Keep me in your memories and your prayers. If you do not let me die here, then I will not die there. I need you to help bring me home. When I get back, I will even let you help me find my wife," I promised. Her eyes brightened and I laughed. She nodded vigorously. I hugged her again before closing my bag and leaving my room._

I smiled at the last memory I made with my younger sister. I had made her a promise she would love to fulfill before I got home. If I know our sweet Rose, sh is probably already looking for my wife.

A tap on my shoulder brought me out of my thoughts. I turned and saw my brother. "Peter," I greeted. He nodded. "Brother, are we going to play now?" he asked," I smiled. I had promised Peter I would play checkers with him after drill today. I led him to the small card table and pulled out our makeshift board and our handmade pieces. We had gotten into the routine of the game fairly quickly. It was a game we had played often at home with our sister. After some heavy silence, Peter spoke. "I saw you out there watching McCarthy out in drill today. You know you two are a lot alike. He's only sixteen, a year older than Rosalie," he pointed out. I shook my head. "Rose is fourteen," I corrected. Peter laughed. "Her birthday was a month and a half ago. This war had messed with your head. You are lucky I came when I did. Rosalie said she misses you and that you had better make good on your promise," he repeated. I laughed. "She knows that I will. I do not understand why she has to remind me. I... We.. Will return home, me to our sister and you to your darling Charlotte," I reassured him with a smile. He smiled, returned his focus to the game, jumped my last piece, rose from his seat, and left.

I smiled and turned. Private McCarthy lay on his bunk, eyes closed, but I could tell he was too tense to find sleep. I rose to my feet and walked to his side. He heard my steps, but could not place them to me, because he shot me a dirty look before wiping it away. "Major," he studdered out before raising to his feet. I laughed, and I knew the ease of it put him on edge. "Sit down and relax, soldier," I told him. He grinned and returned to his bunk. "Peter has told me about you. Sixteen, right? You know you cannot legally join until you are eighteen," I jested. His face fell. "Major, I am sorry, but this is the only way to support my family back in Houston," he explained. I laughed again. I glanced around me, found no one listening, and leaned close to him. "It is okay. Your secret is safe with me, as long as mine is safe with you," I offered. He cocked his head. "Major?" he asked. I smiled. "I am only seventeen," I admitted. He smiled. "I will not tell a soul, sir," he promised. I smirked. "When it is just us, I want you to feel as if we are friends. Please, when we are alone, call me Jasper," I asked. He nodded. "I am Emmett," he said. I shook his hand. I noticed his eyes dropped. "Do you want to talk of your family? It may help," I offered. He smiled.

"It was only my mother, my older sister, and I. My father died ten years back. I was six at the time, so I do not really remember too well, but mother says that I look alike him at this age. My sister looks like her. She has her chestnut hair and her chocolate brown eyes. She looks sweet and innocent, but she is a firey and fierce woman. We have had trouble finding a suitor who could handle her. She is your age," he recalled. I froze as I was reminded of the sweet shrew from my dream. If he had noticed a change in my demeanor, he did not remark on it. "I recall once she found one of our mother's old deep blue dresses with a hooped skirt with ruffles on the underside. It made her skin glow," he continued. I sighed. It was her, my sweet Katherine. She did, indeed, exist and she resided in Houston. A smiled stretched crossed my lips. Ms. McCarthy, I will find you.

An afterthought hit me then. No man could handle her. She was currently not being courted. I had not noticed that Emmett had asked me a question. "Pardon me?" I asked. He chuckled. "I said, do you have any family at home?" he repeated. I smiled. "Yes. I have a sister waiting for me, along with my mother and father. My brother is here. Peter is my younger brother. His fiancee is back home in Houston. He misses Charlotte dearly," he cocked his head again. "Charlotte? What is her surname. I feel I may know her," he asked. "Charlotte Thompson. She has lived in Houston her entire life," I explained. I saw his eyes widened in recognition. "I know her. She has been a good friend of my family for many years. It is nice to have that connection," he said with a shy smiled. I nodded.

"I have a younger sister waiting for me to fulfill my promise to her and return so she can plan my wedding to a woman of her choice. I told her she could help me find a wife. She has blonde hair like Peter and myself, along with our blue eyes. She is fifteen, if I can take what Peter tells me seriously. She is a fun little thing and loves to wreck havoc if she can get away with it. She is very creative. she loves to paint and plays the piano often," I told him. He smiled. "She sounds like a gem. Do you have a picture of your family with you?" he asked. I smiled, but got up and walked to my bunk. I grabbed my journal and removed the pictures I had stashed there. I nearly ran back to him, eager to share my past with someone who has not lived it with me.

I smiled as I sat back and pulled out the stack. I pointed out the first one. "That is Peter with Charlotte," I flipped to the next one. "My mother and I at Rosalie's first recital," I told him. I flipped to another. "Peter, Rose, and I," I captioned. The next picture stuck out to him. It was Rose the last day I saw her: her blonde hair tied up in that scarlette ribbon, her matching dress blowing around her legs, her little black heels clean and shining. It was the last time I saw a genuine smile from her. The sky was a perfect blue with a light dusting of clouds in the horizon. Her blue eyes gleamed with unshed tears. Emmett eyes remained fixated on her. I smiled. He looked up at me. "Jasper, would you mind if I courted your sister? She seems perfect for me," he asked. I laughed, but handed him the picture. "If we make it out of here, I will give you the address," I allowed. He smiled. He reached beside him and pulled out a pile about the size of mine. He pointed out pictures of his mother and him, but when he got to a picture of his sister, I nearly fell over. That was the girl from my dream, from her flowing dark tresses to the perfect shade of blue on her pale skin. Emmett laughed. "Are you considering courting her? You should know that as many man that have tried have failed. What would make you stand out amongst the others?" he asked, honestly curious. I smiled at him. "I made it into a Major in the Texas Calvary. I think I can handle a woman," I answered. He laughed. "Okay, I will allow you my sister since you have allowed me yours, but the same condition applies. If we can go home, you will get the address," he told me with a laugh. I slapped his back, but returned to my bunk, the picture of Rose replaced with the one of Emmett's sister, the woman who has been haunting my dreams.

Sitting quickly, I opened my journal, grabbed my pen, and wrote, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure my thoughts were causing.

_October 2, 1861 - 4:18 p.m._

_Ms. McCarthy has been filling my head. With her radiant skin and simple beauty, it's hard to believe she has not been wed, yet with what he brother tells me, her sharp tongue and wise words keep her for me. I just hope that she does not hurt me. I have already fallen for this shrewish angel. I feel as if I need her to survive, although I have no given name for he, nor has she graced me with the pleasure of meeting her in person before I had left. I am almost certain, were I met her before she had left, I would have stayed in Houston, to court her and hopefully marry the woman. She would have been everything I was searching for and now, I may never get the pleasure to meet this divine angel. Life and love are cruel, cruel masters , yet I remain a faithful lap dog, begging for at least scraps of unwanted or unneeded things. I am pathetic, yet I do not change, for I am terrified. I would much rather be pathetic than face the unknown._

**So? What do you think? Yay, nay? Quit while youre ahead? I need some feedback people! Haha, review for a preview!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay! So, it's been, like, 10 months? Don't hate me! I've been focused so much on school and One Direction and my ever changing boyfriends to remember this site. BUT I DID! And this had always been my favorite story, so I wanted to write this chapter first. It may be shitty, but my new boyfriend (month in 5 days!) just reminded me that he's going to South Carolina for 6 days June 25. For you who don't know, I live in Michigan, FOREVER AWAYS FROM SC! But he's going to see his brother graduate from military boot camp and I have to let him go, even if I don't want to miss him. ANYWAY, back to the story! ENJOY!**

Night had fallen and all of the troops have retired to their bunks for the night and dreamed of home or wars or other such things. I, on the other hand, haven't been quite as fortunate. I laid on my bunk for what felt like hours, the seconds and minutes ticking away in my head as I thought of home. Rose's honey hair, my mother's encouraging smile, my father's firm grasp, the way it always smelt like summer inside the kitchen, despite being the dead of winter, the puzzles and games and tricks we played. And endlessly people. People I loved, people I dispised, people I cared for, and people I hadn't even met yet.

Emmett's dear sister came to mind. Again, that stunning creature in that gorgeous ball gown comsumed my thoughts. Who was she, really? What did she enjoy? Would she even take interest in me once I returned home? I've never had an issue with women before. They always seemed a bit attracted to my blonde locks and blue eyes. I never meant to hurt these poor women, but none of them really caught my gaze. Of course, they were all unbelievably beautiful. Many had dark, beautiful hair and bright, vibrant eyes. I often wondered to myself why I hadn't fallen for any of them. Once, I tried to make myself, but I could only see her as a dear friend. She was a sweet girl. She often wore her short black hair in loose rings, her hazel eyes shimmering with excitement and nervousness. I remember telling myself that there was no other girl like her in the world. If I truly wanted to, I could have made myslef love her, but I knew then that love could not be forced. I told her that her feelings were unrequited and that I was truly sorry. She was beautiful entirely, but yet, my soul told me to keep looking. _For what?_ I would ask myself constantly. _Keep waiting_, the only answer I received.

Now I saw why, as her figure danced behind my eyelids. I smiled as she beckoned to me. I smiled. _Soon, my beauty,_ I thought, as I drifted off into unconsciousness.

The blaring of the horn had me out of bed in a flash. I would have believed it was time to start our day if a glance at the sky had not told me it was a bit too early to be up. A glance at Emmett confirmed this. What was all of this? A surprise drill? If that were the case, I should have been informed. This was my platoon, after all.

I trotted over to the one who interrupted my sleep, Lieutenant Biers. "Biers, what is going on? We had about another hour and a half of sleep. Any surprise drills for my platoon must be run by me first," I reminded him. He rolled his eyes. I opened my mouth, but before I could choke out a word, he held up his hand. "With all due respect, Major, but, tell me, what is the proper protocol for an attack from the enemy?" he asked. The drowsiness left that instant. As I ran towards the door, Colonel Uley grabbed my arm. I struggled to get free to no avail. I saw Emmett stop by the entrance. I waved for him to go on, to fight. After all, that was why he had come: to protect his family. He nodded and turned to exit when Colonel called for him. He ran over, eager to discover what he was needed for. "How old are you, boy?" he started, looking at Emmett, then to me. Emmett wavered for a minute before breaking down. "Sixteen, sir. I'm sorry," he said, looking down at the floor. Uley's gaze returned to me. "And you, Major?" he asked. I sighed. "Seventeen, sir. I know the law, but I had to protect and provide for my family," I admitted. He shook his head. "I don't whether to be disappointed in you two, or proud. You lied to your government. Whitlock, you used your lie to become Major. How much farther were you planning on going? But, on the other hand, you two both put your families first. You, Whitlock, have a father at home and are quite wealthy. Why bother fighting? You and your brother simply had everything. Why throw it away?" he asked, curiousity raging in his eyes.

"Simple, Colonel. I couldn't sit back completing puzzles knowing the country I loved was being divided in half, that my way of life was being threatened, even if my family didn't own slaves. Our neighbors do. Our friends and family all do. Why make them change? Because the North is uncomfortable with people owning Negros? Sorry, sir, but that is much more important to me than prestige, more important than wealth," I confessed. He shrugged and turned back to Emmett. "You, I can understand, in a way. You lost your father when you were young, correct? Your mother never remarried, never loved another man quite like him. A tragic love story, that is. But still, a boy so young, willing to risk his life for his sister and mother. You never hear such stories. And I hate to say this, boys, but you're being discharged. Effective immediately. Pack your things and I'll meet you outside after the gunfire has subdued," he said, voice firm. I nodded stiffly, unwilling to let my annoyance show. Instead, I pivoted and walked back to my bunk to gather my things. My hands grazed my journal and I realized that writing must help to vent some anger.

_October 3, 1861 - 5:35 a.m_

_Five months and 23 days. That is the time I dedicated to this service and this is how they pay thanks? A discharge as a battle starts? All my focus here has been on making this better for everyone here, easier if that term fits, and they send me home. Granted, this is what I've wanted since I've come, but not like this. I wanted to walk in my door, drop my bags beyond the threshold and call out that I'm home, that I helped to end the war for the South's victory. I won't get that now. I suppose I should be grateful. A chance to see my family again is amazing. I have seen far too much of my brother for a lifetime. Prehaps I should learn to look on the bright side. With Emmett returning with me, I get to meet his dear sister, the girl who has been haunting my dreams with such fervor that it has almost knocked me back. the girl whom I still do not have a name for, besides Ms. McCarthy. Her beauty has found me here, and I plan to find her and wed her at home._

**Soooo... What do you think? Does it work after 10 months? Comment what you think!**


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